


Dressed to Impress

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pining, Public Groping, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Suit Kink, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: By far, the best thing about these events is the role play. The moment they’re dressed they dive right into it, acting as if they’ve been a couple for years. It allows open glances and touches which wouldn’t normally happen, and pretending to be Jesse’s partner is something Ashe’s grown especially fond of.Of course, just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, the second they’re back home the illusion is shattered and they go back to staying at arm's length. It was fine at first, Ashe suggested that they should keep things professional between them because they are partners in this.But since then, she’s developed feelings for Jesse.
Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Jesse McCree
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Dressed to Impress

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This has been sitting in my wips for months at 80% completed. Dusted it off because I've decided to fight fire with fire. 
> 
> Zee, I'm sorry it took this long to publish. But thank you for the inspo and I hope you enjoy! 💖

It feels fucking good to dress up.

They do this from time to time. Part of it is keeping up appearances as her parents’ socialite daughter after their untimely death. Mostly it’s just an excuse to dress up, act like a snob, eat ridiculously over the top food and drink expensive champagne. A chance to live the life she _could_ have had if she had a reason to stay with her folks. 

Jesse has tagged along in recent times. At first, he was against it. He didn’t want anything to do with it because that this life just wasn't him. But one of these social gatherings was held at a whiskey distillery which showcased whiskey tasting, and he _needed_ to go. 

He’s been by her side ever since. They like to have a little fun with it by pretending they’re a couple. There's a ton of hand-holding, waist grasping, overuse of the most sickly sweet pet names they can think of, usually resulting in a competition for who can come up with the worst one. 

When socialising becomes too exhausting, they find a quiet corner of the room. If they can manage, somewhere close to the kitchen so they can have the first pick at the hors d’oeuvres. They stuff their faces, get nice and tipsy, and laugh at the rich snobs. For entertainment, Jesse will often lift wallets and steal a nice crisp bill. He's good at it, no one's the wiser and he hasn't gotten caught yet. They take that money, add it to a burger and fries and beer fund, and at the end of the night, they indulge.

Ashe looks at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her hands down her navy blue dress, along her waist and over her hips. It’s silk, figure-hugging, took more effort than required to get into it but fuck, she looks _good_. The plunging neckline shows off her amazing cleavage and then some, stopping just short of her navel. It’s sleeved, it is a winter’s night after all, and has a thigh-high split that shows off her rose tattoo that matches the one on her forearm, just without the Deadlock branding. 

Her hair is gorgeous. It’s side-swept and has soft waves in it; elegant and simple. Her makeup is on point, tonight she opted for smoky eyes and burgundy lips. Her look is completed with a pair of black platform stilettos, giving her a bit of height above Jesse.

Fuck, she knows she’s hot, but dressed like this, dressed to _impress,_ she’s smoking.

Giving her reflection one last look, she cups her breasts and gives them a good push and squeeze together before turning around, settling on Jesse. He looks so fucking good in a suit. He’s opted for charcoal this time, and his tie and pocket square match the navy of her dress. He shaved off the beard he’s been trying to grow, leaving a neatly trimmed goatee and hot as fuck sideburns that fall to his jawline, and his hair is neatly combed. She bites her lip as she eyes him up and down—he fucking scrubs up well for someone who lives in torn leather and denim. 

“I fuckin’ love nights like these,” Jesse says, standing up. He gives her a good look down, his smirk growing wider with each passing moment. “You're hot in a dress. Should wear 'em more often.”

Ashe shrugs. “Don’t have a need to. They’re not practical.”

“Sexy though.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ashe replies, glancing over her shoulder and looking at her ass in the mirror. It’s a little sinful but she didn’t bother wearing underwear. With a dress this tight, she doesn’t want to have a visible panty line. “And you, you're pretty sexy in your suit.”

Jesse chuckles. “It's just as impractical, though. Aside from the knife around my ankle, I don’t have the room to carry anything.”

She can’t help it then, her eyes dropping to his groin. The best part of him wearing suits is the tightness of the trousers. He’s got an amazing package—not that she’s _seen_ it outside of his jeans—but it’s tight enough to make out his bulge, and she likes what she sees. On top of that, the pants just hug his thighs and ass too. 

Her eyes flick up to meet his, she winks and sidesteps around him to pick up her purse. She’s got her gun in there, a revolver not unlike Jesse’s just smaller, clattering with her makeup and phone. “Don’t worry, _babe_ , I’ve got you covered.”

By far, the best thing about these events is the role play. The moment they’re dressed they dive right into it, acting as if they’ve been a couple for years. It allows open glances and touches which wouldn’t normally happen, and pretending to be Jesse’s partner is something Ashe’s grown especially fond of. 

Of course, just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, the second they’re back home the illusion is shattered and they go back to staying at arm's length. It was fine at first, Ashe suggested that they should keep things professional between them because they are partners in this.

But since then, she’s developed feelings for Jesse. Real feelings—she wants nothing more than to kiss him, taste him, fuck him. Sometimes, these two lives bleed together, and they’ll flirt openly without realising. It’s happening more and more often, so much so that there is _clear_ unresolved sexual tension that's been mentioned by _several_ members of the gang. Ashe just brushes it off as playful teasing, but when desire gets too much, she either heads into town and finds someone to fuck in the dead of night, or she indulges herself, masturbating while thinking of Jesse. It’s enough to keep the lust at bay, for a little while at least. 

This is their first night out since those feelings crept into overdrive, though. She knows she’ll indulge a little more, she’ll be touching him openly. The flirting, well, she’ll kick that up a notch too. They’re a couple now, and that couple could have an active sex drive. 

Only time will tell. 

“Glad my perfect _honeybunny_ is protecting me,” he says, opening her bedroom door and offering his elbow.

"Awful," she replies, grasping his bicep. She doesn’t stop herself from giving it a good squeeze, and she tries not to think about fucking him in that suit. 

* * *

Socialising is fucking exhausting. 

It’s no wonder they always find a quiet corner of the room to settle in. Fake smiling and feigning interest in these fuck’s latest yachting adventures wears thin after ten minutes. 

But getting tipsier as they consume more alcohol? Watching Jesse grow clumsier as he tries to lift wallets? Looking at that lazy grin on his face as he none too subtly checks her out? Playing ‘fuck, marry, kill’ with him, snort-laughing at his ridiculous choices and getting the stink eye from those in their vicinity? _That_ makes it all worth it. 

Right now, she’s taking a break from the alcohol and is sipping a glass of tonic water. Her head rests on his shoulder, his arm is wrapped around her waist. There’s a lull in the conversation, a comfortable silence as they both watch the room, tuning into and out of weird, random conversations ranging from the current state of American politics to hunting game in Africa. These rich assholes think they’re entitled to everything, think they can _buy_ everything. 

_This_ is why stealing a bill here and there doesn’t weigh on her conscience, and why she actively encourages him to do it. It’s $50 less that they get to spend on hunting a defenceless elephant or donating to some fuckwit who thinks they can be a better president than the last fuckwit when in reality they’re all awful people who don’t give a fuck about the people they lead. 

Ashe inhales and exhales deeply, nuzzling her head on Jesse’s chest. She breathes in deep, his cologne—which he only wears at these things—smells so fucking good. It’s probably the one thing that she most associates with these events, it makes her feel good and giddy inside, like she gets drunk off the smell. Sometimes, she’ll catch whiffs of it on her clothes or skin once these nights are over, usually concentrated on her neck and shoulders, places he's had the most contact with her. 

The last time they attended a charity event was the first time she masturbated thinking about him, all because of his cologne. 

That was four months ago. She thinks about it from time to time, and if she could have that moment again, she would say something about it to him. It's not that she was guilty in any way fucking her dildo and imagining it was his dick. No, it was the thought that just two rooms away was _his_ dick, probably good and perfect, the real fucking deal she could've been riding. 

She’s usually one to make her intentions very clear, to strike and take what she wants _when_ she wants it, but not with Jesse. There’s just something about him that she can’t shake, like her head fills with fog and a thousand anxious thoughts cloud her mind. Like, a part of her is legitimately _worried_ that he won’t be interested, or that sleeping with him would be underwhelming, or that she might not even _like_ it.

It’s fucking _ridiculous_ because she’s caught him staring at her tits and ass _multiple_ times, both when dressed like this and when in casual clothes. The flirting is obvious, the levelled winks are there, present every day, he laughs at her jokes, and she laughs at his. There _is_ interest, a clear mutual pining, but her brain still likes to bury her in those doubts.

And then there's also the fact that they’ve technically already made out. Granted they were drunk and her memory leading up to it is a little fuzzy, but she _does_ remember _enjoying_ it and wanting more.

 _Wanted_ more, but she hasn’t reached out and claimed what she so desires.

His hand moves up, just under her breast, mere millimetres away from copping a feel, and it jolts her into the present. He’s rubbing little circles onto her ribs with his fingertips, his head nuzzles against her hair. She wants to look up at him, ask him to slide his hand up that little bit further, but she knows it’ll shatter the fragile glass of whatever _this_ is. Why would she do that instead of sitting here and enjoying it? This is the closest he's gotten to actual physical intimate contact, and the last thing she wants is to scare him off. 

Her heart hammers in her chest, enough that she’d be surprised if he can’t feel it with his hand resting so close to it. She thinks about placing a hand on his thigh, or shifting so she can wrap her arm around his front. 

She doesn’t do any of that, though, just sits here, frozen, taking what she can get from him. 

But soon enough, the unrelenting urge to lift her head and kiss him becomes too much to bear. Sure, they’ve kissed before, but this would be different—they're not nearly as drunk, and it would be real, despite the role play. 

God, does she _desperately_ want it to be real. 

Her stomach flutters fiercely as she curls her hand around his thigh. She can feel his warmth through his pants, and she doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but his legs spread that bit further apart. That’s when she sees his erection, bulging against his inner thigh literally an inch from her hand. Jesus _fuck_ he’s impressive, a perfect length and thickness, and is clearly _also_ not wearing underwear. 

She wants to touch him, palm him through his trousers, and if they weren’t in this very public room, she’d do it. 

Instead, she curls inwards slightly, glancing up at him. He looks down at her, smiling softly. 

“Jess,” she whispers when he cups her face. She leans into his touch. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She closes her eyes and kisses his palm. Taking compliments always left her speechless, but from him, it turns her into a shy, bashful mess. 

“That dress of yours should be illegal. Lord have _mercy_ , I’ve been _staring_ at your cleavage for the better part of half an hour and I just wanna explode.”

She can't help but smirk, glancing at his erection. “I can _see_ that.”

“Can I kiss you? I really wanna kiss you.”

Ashe positively grins, cupping his face. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Jesse smiles, big and brimming. His hand shifts to cup the nape of her neck and he leans down. She meets him in a kiss, it’s soft, chaste, they hold still for a moment before his tongue sweeps along her bottom lip slowly. She parts her lips, his tongue brushes against hers and she whimpers, holding onto the lapel of his jacket like a lifeline. It takes _so_ much restraint to sit still, to not pull him down on top of her or to climb onto his lap. 

She _does_ shift to sit a little higher, and she can feel her wetness between her legs. _Fuck_ , she can’t remember the last time she kissed someone and was _this_ wet. Now, all she wants to do, what her body is positively _screaming_ for, is break off the kiss, lead him into another room and fuck him senseless. 

But at the same time, she doesn’t want to, she wants to stay right here on this couch and keep kissing him until they’re kicked out for offending the guests due to their public display of affection. Because _Christ_ , kissing him is addictive.

Sure she’s going to explode if she _doesn’t_ make her intentions known, she slides her hand up his thigh, settling on his cock. He groans, low in his throat, kisses back harder. She palms him, makes sure to keep her movements slow, not obvious to the rest of the room, but with each passing moment, it becomes a losing battle. 

It’s too tempting to take advantage of this situation, this moment that’s evolved so naturally. He wants her and she wants— _needs_ him, more than her body needs air. 

Pulling back to take a breath, she looks into his eyes. She can see the lust burning behind his, his hand settles on her bare thigh, right at the top of the slit. He doesn’t move, he stares back like he’s _waiting_ for permission to slip inside her dress. 

As much as she wants to _feel_ him, to get off on his fingers rubbing against her, _inside_ her, it’s a little _too_ open for her tastes. A quick glance to her left shows four people chatting idly, seemingly unaware of them. She glances at Jesse, but when she looks back at the group, two of them have their eyes on them. 

Sure they’ll get kicked out the moment his hand slides up her dress, popping this _wonderful_ bubble, she takes his hand and stands. Her eyes flit to the group as she walks past them, giving them a smug smirk as she leads him out of the room. 

The first room they come across is locked, as is the second. The bathroom is tempting, but if they get caught both leaving it, _or_ if someone wants to use it, then that could make things awkward. 

The fourth room, well away from the party now, is unlocked. It’s a study or den, she doesn’t give a fuck, it has a desk he can bend her over, or fuck her on top of, or hell, it has four walls to pick from if that’s what he’s after. She’s down for whatever as long as she gets his dick inside her. 

The moment the door is closed and locked, he lifts her up. She’s thankful for the thigh-high split now, allowing her to wrap his legs around him. He carries her to the table and lays her down on top of it, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist. He grinds against her through his pants, and she bits her lip. 

“Ain’t wearing panties,” she says, breathless, holding onto the edge of the table tight. 

“Fuck,” he groans. He doesn’t stop, if anything he grinds down harder, and she’s sure she’s leaving a nice wet spot right on his crotch. Then, he frowns, dipping his head and kissing her knee. “Don’t have a rubber.”

“Just pull out.”

He kisses her knee again, one more time before pulling back. He unbuckles his belt, opens his trousers, pulling his cock out. He's fucking gorgeous, he's got the barest hints of an upward curve, and he's uncut. She'd love to sit here and admire it further, but he's _desperate_ , immediately settling between her legs.

She feels him drag against her inner thigh, hot and heavy, all the way up to her entrance. He doesn't push in, he swirls around it, then rubs against her clit. She shudders, her eyes flutter; he's not even in all the way and she's so close to coming. 

The head of his cock dips down, and she moans, long and loud when she feels the blunt press of him pushing in. His hands settle on the table, bracing his weight, and she curls hers around his forearms. 

Each inch she takes him is dizzying, euphoric, leaving her breathless. Molten heat pools in her core, her dildo is _no_ comparison to the real thing, and for half a moment she scolds herself for not making a move all those months ago, focusing instead on him here, now. 

As he settles with a groan, he looks into her eyes and thrusts once, moaning and hanging his head low. Another thrust, another moan. She has to sit up then, as much as his moans are gorgeous and she wants to hear him lose himself, someone will hear them, and that would be bad if they got kicked out _now,_ after getting this far. 

Bracing herself on the table, she lifts her head to capture his mouth and swallows down his moans. The kiss is all kinds of desperate, leaving her a panting, whimpering mess, and she holds onto him tight, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rocks her hips in time with his, getting lost in the moment, pushing herself against him to get as much body contact with him as possible. 

Soon enough, though, she needs to come up for air. Jesse keeps going, his lips are instantly on her neck, and she tilts her head back to give him more room to work. He kisses down her chest, and she gasps the moment his hand cups her breast. He kneads and squeezes through her dress, but she wants more, she wants him to play with her. She rests her hand on top of his, dragging it inside her dress. 

“Fuck,” Jesse murmurs, pulling up. He looks at her chest, his eyes meet hers, and when he looks back down, she pulls both sides of it away so he can get a look at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, leaning back onto her elbows. As much as she would love for him to be naked in front of her so she can fully appreciate that hot body of his, him being fully dressed, _especially_ in a suit makes this so much hotter. 

He takes both breasts into his hands, dragging his fingertips towards her nipples. He pinches them gently, she sucks in a breath through her teeth. They’re sensitive in the _best_ way, and if he keeps this up, she’ll come. 

Meeting her gaze, he does it again, this time with a little more force. She can’t help her moan, nor her hip jerk, and when he smiles at her, she meets it. 

He picks up his speed a little more, her eyes flutter closed and she tips her head back. Her imagination was _nothing_ compared to having his hands on her body, as rough fingers tug and pinch her nipples with the _right_ amount of force. It almost feels like this is something he’s done countless times before, he’s just so good, so _perfect_ , and she was a fool for denying herself this. 

Soon enough, it all becomes too much. From his hands on her body, to his hips slapping against her, to the delicious rub of his cock inside her. Jesse is _finally_ fucking her, it's a sensory overload and she can’t hold on. Her hands settle on top of his as the pressure is released, as her toes curl, as her back arches off the table. 

He slows down, but still fucks her through her high. When she opens her eyes again, he’s looking down at her with a smile on his lips. 

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he murmurs, slowing to a grind. He leans down, kissing her softly, and she cups the back of his head, her fingers weave through his hair. 

When he lifts his head, he pulls out. She barely contains the needy whine; she’s not ready for this night to be over. He doesn’t tuck himself into his pants though, he looks down at her with his lip between his teeth. His hand moves slowly from her chest to between her legs, rubbing at her clit first, then dipping inside her. His cock _bounces,_ and she smirks, taking him in her hand, using her juices as lubrication. 

“Will you be open to turning over?”

Breath catching in her throat, she nods. He takes back his hand and she lets go of him, letting her feet find the ground. She hikes up her dress as she turns, leaning down against the desk. 

Jesse’s hands settle on her ass, he exhales, so loudly she _hears_ how it stutters. His fingers rub against her clit, then over her entrance, and as he pulls them away, she feels his cock again, pushing in slowly. He grasps her hips tight, his thrusts are fast, forceful, almost like little snaps of his hips. 

He groans and grunts, she can tell he's holding back his moans. _Fuck_ she loves a partner who's vocal and hearing Jesse grow more desperate, as he tries to contain his noises has the pressure building up in her core again. She meets his thrusts, and every now and then he _slams_ his hips into her, then he slows down a little. If she had to guess, he _wants_ to go harder but knows this isn’t the time and place. They’d be too loud, between the slaps of skin against skin to the moans, the entire _manor_ would know they’re fucking. 

Jesse moans, slipped through, carrying tons of desperation. The grip on her hips tighten, then one hand settles on her chest, taking her tit in his hand. “Fuck, Ashe, fuck,” he groans, thrusting _hard_ , once, twice, then he pulls out. His cock falls heavy against her ass, he grinds against her, then she feels the spurts on her back. 

It feels like fire, and she moans. His hand settles between her legs again, rubbing her clit, and she can’t help but rest her hand on top. His fingers dip inside her, roughly penetrating as his thumb rests on her clit. She slides her fingers in beside his, it’s enough to push her over the edge again and she moans, long and loud, pressing her back to his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. 

As she floats down from the high, she feels just how much she’s quivering. Jesse kisses the spot between her neck and shoulder gently, and when his nose brushes against her jawline, she turns her head, meeting him in a slow, sensual kiss. 

While sneaking away and fucking at this party wasn’t what she had in mind for their first time, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. it was perfect, all of it, from the role play to the being here in this room as the party goes on blissfully unaware.

Jesse presses one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, his head rests against her temple as he takes his hands back, resting them on her waist.

With a sigh content sigh, she steps away from Jesse. Her knees shake, she hikes down her dress, and she turns, sitting on the desk to regain her balance. He looks at her with a sheepish smile on his lips and he points to her dress.

“I uh…”

Frowning, she tucks her tits back into the dress. But from the corner of her eye, she spots an _unmistakable_ dark spot, right on her shoulder. 

“Did you…” she glances over her shoulder, seeing several darkened spots all over her back. Of course, the dress covered her entire back and he came _on_ her dress. She looks at him, giving the flattest expression she can muster. “You did.”

Jesse shrugs. “You said to pull out, I didn’t know that it’d fucking _shoot_ all over you.”

She can't help but smile; she's _way_ too blissed out to really give a damn. “I’ll just get it dry cleaned. Besides, it’s kinda hot.”

“It is,” Jesse replies, tucking himself into his pants. When he zips up she can’t help but bark a laugh, right on his crotch is a darkened patch, with the edges of it turning white, evidence of their earlier grinding. _Fuck_ she was wet. 

“Looks like we’re even.” 

Jesse hums, brushing his fingertips against the spot. “Yup. Will you judge me if I choose to never wash these pants?”

“Yes,” Ashe grins, wrapping her arms around his neck. She gives him a peck on the lips. “If you really want a memento, you can take a pair of my underwear.”

Jesse exhales, stuttered. “Jesus.”

“How about we get the fuck outta here, get us some burgers and beer, then we can fool around. I’ll put on my favourite pair and you can watch me have some solo fun. Keep 'em when I'm finished.”

“Fuck. You’re fuckin’ wild, Ashe.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing," Ashe says, smirking slyly.

Jesse shakes his head. “Nope. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“Good.” Ashe presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, she takes a step away from him, keeping her hands on his chest as he does up his belt. 

He takes a breath when he’s done, offering his elbow. She takes it, but he doesn't move as he eyes her back. “Hang on,” he says, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it across her shoulders. “There’s uh… There’s a lot, and it’s starting to dry.”

Ashe affectionately rolls her eyes but wearing Jesse’s jacket like this, while completely cliché, is something she’s _wanted_ for the longest time. “Thank you, _sexy pants_.”

Jesse smiles softly, wrapping his arm around her waist. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't let these two horny fucks be your role models. Don't pull out, always practice safe sex!
> 
> This work has [fanart by the amazing MrBRose27!](https://twitter.com/Rose27Mr/status/1255010333548097536?s=19) Give them your love!! 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) and [PillowFort!](https://www.pillowfort.social/ChillieBean) Come say hi!


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